Last week, the album “t.A.T.u. V Podnebesoi” was released. The legendary band’s creator, producer Ivan Shapovalov, spoke to “Ravila Zhizni” about why the album was released now and shared his memories of the time it was recorded.
The existence of such a band today is simply impossible. Why did you decide to release the album at this particular moment in time?
When t.A.T.u. left Podnebesnaya, the space of freedom became orphaned. And that was the beginning of our journey somewhere wrong… the path we find ourselves on now. But it happened the way it did. Why is the album being released today? Perhaps it’s worth returning to the moment when these symbols of freedom left us. It’s a moment of reflection. “t.A.T.u. V Podnebesoi” isn’t an attempt to capitalize on images from twenty years ago or squeeze every last bit of the project out of existence; it’s an attempt to go back and rethink what happened to us.
You mentioned that you held a casting call and Lena Katina was initially chosen for the project. Later, Julia Volkova (also a casting participant) joined her, and Lena practically brought her in herself?
No, that’s not how it happened. Sasha Voitinsky and I held a casting call, which included both Julia and Lena—both from “Neposedy.” We watched everyone, and it was very difficult to choose. Incidentally, a duet wasn’t even planned initially—we were simply looking for a solo singer. We chose Lena, and Julia was among the contenders.
When you came up with the idea for the duet, was it already clear that they were the ones who needed to be united?
It’s important to understand that there wasn’t such a concept from the start; we didn’t formulate the idea of a duet. The idea flowed hand in hand with reality; the casting forced us to rethink the lineup. Everything developed organically, not premeditated: first, I wanted to make a video. Sasha proposed a project for the video, then the project needed a casting call, songs. Boris appeared, then Valera, then Lena, Zhenya, Seryozha, Lenya, and that’s how it all came together.
Do you remember the moment you realized: this is it, it’s happened—success? When did the scale of the phenomenon dawn on you?
The next morning! I remember it very well. It was literally after the video came out on MTV: an avalanche of calls and messages, everyone was talking about us. The girls suddenly became famous—it happened overnight. They wouldn’t play the song for a while until this, but the video was played right away. I left the tape with security, and as soon as they saw it, they put it into rotation. Incidentally, the video was shot for the fifth song—four tracks had been recorded before, but we did not create videos for them.
After your success, projects emerged that tried to replicate your vibe. Do you consider yourself some kind of trendsetter?
Well… that’s your call. If that’s what you call me, go ahead. Just don’t throw me into a thorn bush.
Everything is clear about what was happening with the post-Soviet audience. But when it came to expanding internationally, did you really have any doubts about whether t.A.T.u.’s format would work there?
It wasn’t us who made the decisions here, but the labels: Universal and Interscope. They were our guides to the West, guiding and adapting us. The project itself began reaching European audiences in a Russian-language version, and then the major labels saw the potential and took the initiative.
As your popularity grew, weren’t you afraid that it would all end abruptly? That success would carry you along, and you’d become hostage to your own courage: hit after hit, racing against yourself, ever higher?
Of course. At a certain point, we truly became prisoners of our chosen roles and the stakes. But you can’t plan that—you feel it. In some ways, we were able to take one step forward consciously, but hardly two.
How do you remember that time from your perspective?
Only good memories.
The recordings being released now were made for an album recorded during the reality show “t.A.T.u. V Podnebesnoi.” The show was supposed to result in a new album for the band. But the result was the documented end of your collaboration with Lena and Julia. What was going on in your relationship then?
A dramatic breakup ensued. Thanks to Vitaly Mansky and the STS team, it was all captured on reality television.
But, besides the show, Vitaly also made a documentary. Were you upset by what was shown in the film and how?
That’s inevitable. I don’t rule out that in our interview, too, some things will be highlighted in a way we wouldn’t have liked. And there’s no point in being offended. He emphasized some things, chose his own angle. And if you’re willing to open up, you have to be prepared to be viewed from different angles.
There’s a story about you asking Mansky to remove 17 seconds from the film during editing. Do you remember what was in it?
We had many discussions and conversations. I can’t recall what might have been in it. The only thing he and I saw as fundamentally different was the ending.
Were you scared after your collaboration with the girls ended? You were one of the most successful producers not only in Russia but also in the world. Where do you go from here, what do you do?
Some time after they left, I fell hard from that height. No parachute! No safety net. I developed cancer. Fractures. Intensive care. Chemotherapy. So, scary isn’t the right word. Sublethal is the right word.
Whose support did you feel then? I heard that when you were having health problems, it was Julia who helped you.
By then, everyone was helping. Julia included. She was there when I was hospitalized… The whole world helped with the recovery.
Do you still communicate with the girls?
Sometimes.
Are you involved in any creative ways with their projects?
I wouldn’t say I’m involved creatively—that would be too much. I’ve given them vocal recording advice a couple of times when asked. But they write their own songs, and each one creates their own product. I haven’t heard anything new from them yet. But I hope this reunion isn’t just for concerts.
If you listen to their recordings, can you comment or criticize them?
That’s all I do when asked.
So, in general, they might call you and say, “Vanya, can you give me some advice as a friend?”
No… I think they’re trying to find themselves apart from me: our connection is too strong. I think they’re trying to break free from that. It’s a moment of separation.
You really do have a strong connection—at least in public. If someone mentions one of you, they immediately think of all three of you.
For me, definitely… How else could it be?
Were the girls involved in any way for this album, or were old recordings used?
No, these are recordings of that time, that sound. Even the parts that weren’t fully edited. They’re still the way they were. Perhaps they’ll be reworked further.
What significance do these recordings have for you?
For me, they’re a slice of time, and in some ways, they still sound relevant today.
The project was launched by many people: Lena Kiper, Sergey Galoyan, Valera Polienko, Alexander Voitinsky… Do you keep in touch with any of them?
Yes, I do, as the opportunity arises. Everyone had their role. Thanks to them, the project became what it is.
Elena Kiper later created the project “Nichya”. Have you heard those songs?
Of course I have. Some of them were originally compiled for t.A.T.u. Elena was responsible for selecting the material submitted to the project; it included tracks by Oleg Borschevsky. I was in America at the time, and her project was a surprise to me. When Elena left, she used some of that material—and that’s normal.
Was there any professional jealousy? Elena’s songs were similar to what you did in t.A.T.u.: the mood, the heartbreak, the allegories, the style.
There was a sense of loss: the person who inspired you was gone.
Looking back on the past 20 years, are there things you regret or would have done differently?
No, I can’t think of anything like that.
After ending your collaboration with the girls, did you feel any sense of betrayal?
No. But I still can’t explain some things to myself. I don’t want to make them public. I think we’ll get through this, too.
At your peak, like any successful person, you were probably surrounded by people who cling to famous people. Were there many who acted in a similar way after you left the project?
Honestly, at the time, I wasn’t paying attention or following it… I didn’t pay attention. I still appreciate everyone who was around for their interest and participation.
What are your expectations now for the album’s release?
I think the material is still relevant today—it’s the spirit of an era of freedom, hope, and great beginnings. As for the sound, some things could use some freshening up.
As pompous as it may sound, do you realize how much you’ve done for Russian music?
More like how much I haven’t done yet.
Perhaps you have plans for a project that will be even better than t.A.T.u.?
Wanting to do better means becoming a prisoner of your own ambitions and expectations, a hostage. As we discussed at the beginning, I wouldn’t want to compete with myself again.
For many, you will remain the creator of t.A.T.u. But how would you like to be remembered?
I’m not leaving yet to want that.

